A Few Seconds
by Wandering Cat
Summary: A few seconds can determine someone's future, or they might just take it away. Sometimes, Fiora learned one cold winter day, they might just work in your favor, through an enemy sniper and an ill nomad that seems as cold as the snow. RathFiora


**A Few Seconds**  
Wandering Cat  
Once again thanks to IceBlade28!

Wandering Cat: Why am I writing a Rath/Fiora fic? Well, it's a pairing I   
invented, though my pal IceBlade28 used it first, and it's not just random crap either. Well, at least not entirely. I am doing this because:   
A. I can.  
B. Because Rath has only nine supports, six are with guys, and apparently few people like Rath/Lyn  
C. Fiora and Rath make a good pair, if you think about it.  
D. Sue kind of looks like Fiora, in the shape of her face and eyes. Compare their  
portraits, look closely, and you'll see.  
E. I greatly enjoy showing a softer side to Rath, but I had already decided not to do another RathLyn so soon.

WC: So there you go.

Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem. Duh.

WC: Oh, yeah. I will be using the words "seconds" and "a few seconds" all the time. Bare with me; it might wear off. This is a "make it up as I go along" kind of  
thing. Just like everything else I write. Especially for school.  
---------------------------I'm not timing myself this time-----------------------------------  
Most people say a few seconds don't matter. A few seconds, versus billions  
and billions, definitely more, out of a lifetime. Sometimes, they're right. A few seconds more sleep can't hurt anyone. A few seconds of procrastination in schoolwork or training won't matter in the end. A few seconds make up day after day, year after year. The collection of seconds the day before was the time it took for the heavy snow to start falling, leaving a thick blanket on the environment around them. That's what she learned, how much a few seconds will eventually matter. Fiora realized one day that the people who say seconds don't matter are dead wrong. Four, maybe five seconds changed her life for the rest of her billions and billions of seconds, definitely more.

The berserker breathing down her neck and swinging his axe in a drunken haze made it hard to concentrate on anything else; she hadn't seen the godforsaken archer. Actually, it was a sniper doing what he did best: conceal himself and wait for the perfect second to let his arrow fly. He never got that chance, that perfect second, because somebody did see him, and took barely one for himself to nock an arrow of his own. He didn't hesitate even one moment to let it fly, because he wouldn't make the same mistake the archer did.

As she finally finished the berserker and backed away from its body, an unsteady arrow flew just in front of her. If she hadn't moved just a second before, it would have imbedded itself on the side of the head. Four, maybe five seconds, and she was in and out of danger. And she didn't even notice them or their passing.  
---------------------  
Fiora winced heavily as an arrow whizzed by in front of her. It happened every time she  
fought an archer: shoot, miss, twitch. But this wasn't a regular archer, she could tell by looking at his clothing that he was of a high rank, a sniper, and they never missed a  
stationary target. Unless something got in the way. Certain that she was in no more peril, the winged warrior looked for her savior, but saw no living person. She sighed, about to give up, until a small cloud of dust caught the corner of her eye, presumably kicked up by a horse. Fiora and her beloved Pegasus sped after the trail, catching up to the lone person and his steed in no time.

Huge white horse, black and red-orange clothing, and green hair_. What's his  
name...? I know he's an ally._ Fiora thought, staring down at the man from the skies. _He has a bow; he must be the one who saved me...Only one way to find out, I suppose..._

"Pardon me! Sir...?" Fiora called. Her Pegasus landed softly in the knee-deep snow, trotting expertly in its element. The man only gave a quarter-turn of his head but shifted his eyes to meet hers, never changing his scowl, before returning to his former position. Fiora mentally scowled herself; he was being rude, and all she wanted was to thank him, but she refused to show her annoyance. "Sir? I just wanted to know if you were the one who shot down the sniper and saved my life." There was no response. She started to ask again, before being cut off by his smooth but harsh voice.

"Just because an enemy isn't before your eyes doesn't mean he's not there." There was a long pause before he continued. "...You'll get killed if you focus all energy on one sense and neglect the others." the bowman said roughly. Fiora waited a second longer to see if he would continue before replying, already picking up his speaking habit.

"I...I shall remember that. And now that I'm sure it was you, I offer my most gracious thanks for saving my life and for the advice." She said sincerely, her soft voice in sharp contrast to his. "Now, if I may...All I ask now is your name."

He turned to look at her and, for the first time, really seeing the person he was speaking to, and spoke with a softness that surprised even himself.

"...Rath, son of the Kutolah." With that and a small cough, he tapped his ankle against his steed's side and galloped away into the gorgeous white landscape, leaving a rather thoughtful knight behind.  
-------------------  
Fiora hummed a soft, slow tune as she brushed down her Pegasus later that evening. For just a moment, a few seconds, she paused to gather her thoughts. And he was in all of them. Hard as she tried, she couldn't forget her encounter with the quiet nomad, Rath. It wasn't so surprising; he had saved her life, after all. Again and again, his voice played the same lines in her mind, over and over he saw his scowl. Fiora tried to brush it aside, resuming her tune and grooming.

Green eyes peered at her from another stall, a dark one in the corner that somehow hid his white horse. A green eyebrow cocked itself with interest. For just a few seconds he watched her as she paused and resumed her work and song. He too returned to the care of his horse, finishing quickly and exiting the stall, trying to slip out unnoticed as he always did. But fate didn't bend to his will, as usual, and an unfortunately placed bucket made contact with his foot, resulting in a quick bang that caught the attention of the otherwise preoccupied teal-haired knight.

"Who's there?" Fiora shouted coolly, snatching her lance with ease, the  
question asking itself repeatedly in a feigning echo.

Instead of answering, Rath brought himself from the shadows and into the   
dull evening light and throwing all mystery form his presence. Fiora's shoulders relaxed,  
knowing from just the few seconds she spent with him that there was no need to fear  
this man. Something was different about him, the way he looked and carried himself. She looked at him closely, unable to place it; though she had a feeling it was painfully obvious.

"Good evening, Sir Rath. Tell me, why were you so intent on hiding?" She  
asked pleasantly, a small smile gracing her features as she waited for his habitual pause.

"...It doesn't matter if you know I'm here or not." He replied, suppressing a cough and  
turning to retire to his tent for the night.

Fiora, unknowingly mimicking Rath's previous actions, raised her thin eyebrow, teal  
eyes glowing sadly in the dim light. "And why is that, sir?" Rath paused and  
turned partly, not looking her directly in the face.

He raised his hand and gave a small cough, in what seemed like an uncomfortable motion to Fiora. She looked at him pleadingly, silently asking him to answer her question.

"We….All of us, we have better things to do…than acknowledge everyone in our paths." He answered evenly. There was something different in his voice, too. It was hoarse, compared with the one he used earlier.

Fiora's expression softened more; she took a few steps toward him and looked   
him in his melancholic eyes, but he again turned away, his back to her.

"Sometimes…the best thing you can do for someone is acknowledge them…Some people…they're forlorn. It seems as if nobody notices them, and that's why those who do should show it." She reached out and shyly touched his arm, blushing furiously.

For a few seconds, the fierce winter wind kicked through the stable windows and  
threw around some foul hay and oats mixed with snow, and Rath was forced to turn in order to protect his eyes. Both pairs closed, guarding themselves from the debris. And when they opened them, their eyes met for a few seconds, and suddenly each felt no cold. The warmth was fleeting, though; Rath discreetly broke the contact, nodding and turning to leave, the one fluid motion ruined by a sudden, quick shuddering of his shoulders and small stumble. Fiora stood still, didn't see his involuntary lurch, nor did she hear a soft thud outside. She was now distracted by the fading warmth remained only in her cheeks, with cold fighting back for her attention everywhere else, and shock at her own actions. She slowly shook her head, the motion cooling her face. Collecting her lance and other belongings, she too exited the stable in favor of her warm tent.  
-------------------  
"You were very lucky! This flu could have been very bad if you weren't brought in so quickly, plus you had the privilege of being treated by the lovely miss Serra--for no price, might I add--so stop being such a Mr. Grumpy-face!" the cleric chirped as she flipped her hair and winked. Serra was attempting, in her own way, to cheer her patient up. His eye only twitched again; Rath purposely bought his own vulneraries in order to avoid this kind of treatment. Serra huffed. "Fine! Don't appreciate my quality medical care!"

"...Thanks."

This time she tried to match his scowl, the not-so-sincere response only   
making her angrier. With another "Humph!", Serra moved to her personal section of the tent, ignoring the bell outside that signaled a visitor and the person who rung it. Rath listened, unusually curious, to see if the bell would ring again; and to his surprise, it did.

"Excuse me, Lady Serra? Could I come in?" A hand poked through the flap,  
followed by the cold-pink face of the Pegasus Knight he had seen so much of lately, one hand covering her eyes. Rath relaxed in his half-laying position.

"…You can move your hand."

The last cold vapor disappeared from her mouth as she gave a small, relieved sigh and pulled a stool next to his bed.

"Are you feeling better, Sir Rath? You collapsed right outside the stables, only a few hours ago…You could imagine my surprise when I almost tripped over something, and it was you! I'm an idiot; I should have been able to tell you were sick. I was so worried about y--" Fiora's face colored more, clasping a hand over her mouth to effectively put a stop to her rant, lowering her eyes.

"I can tell…You have been waiting all this time….Outside, in the cold." His statement came bluntly, with no room for argument. "Why?"

The Pegasus knight blushed deeper, thanking the heavens for the pink cheeks that came from ungodly cold and masked embarrassment. Unfortunately, though, it could do nothing for the habits that came from the embarrassment, and hers burst forth without warning.

"Well….I was the one who brought you here. It's m-my duty to make sure you were alright….You see, many Pegasus knights would get sick on missions and try to hide it from the commanders so we all got really good at seeing others' illnesses which really made us all hypocrites because we always tried to hide it our—"

A large, hard hand clasped itself over her uncontrollable mouth, apparently the only action that could stop it.

"You're still cold….I…don't want you to get sick as well."

Fiora's eyes darted up a little, meeting with the two soft white quilts being held out to her by the stoic nomad. "Oh, no, Sir Rath! You need them. I've faced worse."

"Take them. You're cold...I have more than enough. The obnoxious devil kept  
pawning 'em off on me...Some self-righteous lie about her generosity." The Pegasus  
knight's eyes raised more, and once again met with the nomad's.

"Um…Th-Thank you, Sir Rath…"

"Just Rath." His eyes and voice were warm, and she knew hers were following suit.

And this time, the warmth didn't last just a few seconds. She could feel it on the top of her head as she lowered it to hide her deepening blush as she reached for the blankets. It seeped through her, again capturing her thoughts and eventually her heart, and it wouldn't let go.

And for a few seconds, their hands met, and she smiled and he returned it. The warmth in their eyes, smiles, and hearts lasted for the rest of their billions and billions of  
seconds. Definitely more.  
---------------------  
Wandering Cat: I obviously have ending issues.

First Proofreader's Note From IceBlade28: Nice one-shot. I don't think it was as good as 'Till Your Binds Break', but that may be because you're more used to Lyn than to Fiora, and you made the romance better in your previous fic. Still, this one was pretty good.

Wandering Cat: So I adapted it. Note to self and others: Typing a fic in the middle of the night in less than two hours without taking a nice nap first is a bad idea (originally written at 3 AM last week). I added a few semi-romantic lines for Fiora and gave Rath some softer actions. Because there's nothing cuter than the dark boy being sweet. Of couse, this one still doesn't add up to 'Till Your Binds Break'.

If y'all choose to review and want me to say something back, leave an e-mail address. Same thing if you reviewed my first fic. I was actually very pleased. Eight reviews and over80 hits!


End file.
